I Lied
by EarthboundFanatic
Summary: America has no will to live anymore. He ends it all. Or so it seems.
1. One: My Death Bed

A/N: Hello there! Hamilmatsu here. This is my first Hetalia fanfic, so if the characters don't seem like they would be I apologize. I wanted to write about Depressed!America. His happy and accomplishing personality inspires me to write a depressing secret he could hide... because nobody can be happy for so long without breaking. Updates are slow since I try to aim for 1,000 words or more per chapter and because of school. Well, let's delve into America's secret shall we?

 **II**

 _Freedom. Having the will to act without restraint._

 _I longed for independence._ _I didn't want to be lonely anymore when England left to his country. If I was free, I could visit and see England in the years to come. Yes, I still wanted to be his "little brother". And yes, once I had fallen in love with him. The thing is, I wanted to be a country he'd be proud of. Not just him, but all the whole world. Why couldn't they be proud of me? I don't get it._

 _I was a young country at the time when I was colonized. I discovered I wasn't like "humans" in a painful way. I'm not naive as the other countries see me._

 _But..._

 _I lied._

 _I lied to protect myself. I lied so that others could never see the truth. I lied about my happiness to make the other nations believe this was me. I lied because I wanted to be like the rest._

 _I never got what I asked for in the end._

 _One lie and nobody notices._

 _I promised to keep this to myself._

" _ **England?" My blue eyes dilated. I really loved him.**_

 _ **He turned, I saw his eyes. His fond and loving green gaze. I wish he still looked at me like that.**_

 _ **"Yes, America?"**_

 _ **"How come I don't change? Why don't I age like other children?"**_

 _ **There came a long pause. I guess England didn't know how to word his response. I knew it.**_

 _ **Here was the first lie.**_

 _ **Smile, America.**_

 _ **I did. I hadn't realized my voice squeaked and shouted at a boy about my age. Or at least I thought.**_

 _ **"Davie!"**_

 _ **Oh. Davie...**_

 _ **My first and final human friend.**_

 _ **Everyone is oblivious to an act that I put up. It's easy to fool older nations if you have a smile on all the time. You act like you're okay, when it isn't okay. I learned of this after I met Davie... and when I witnessed his death.**_

 _ **Humans.**_

 _ **They have something that no strong nation could ever have.**_

 _ **Death.**_

 _ **They live their lives to the fullest, then they**_ _ **die just like that.**_

 _ **Whoever dies, doesn't come back no matter what.**_

 _ **But I wanted to end this miserable life. And that is what I did.**_

 _ **In this tale that happened to me a few years back, I would die.**_

 _ **Death's hands become hold of me.**_

 _ **The hero would be...**_

 _ **Dead.**_


	2. Two: The Disappearance

**AN: Just so you know I'm not doing accents. Hope you understand. ^^**

"Bloody hell!"

An agitated Brit slammed his hands on the meeting table. His former colony, America, hadn't been answering his calls. The personification of the United States of America would now be late five times in a row to the World Meeting when 12 O'clock came. England glared at the clock on the wall, 11:55 it read.

This wasn't going to be good. England decided that he would give another "talk" to the American once he arrived.

Other nations already in their seats did not notice America being late, as it seemed regular to them. Usual things were playing out as every meeting started. Less absurdity. If they were being truthful with eachother, all their thoughts would match up in one sentence.

 _Who cares?_

Someone lightly touched on the shoulder of the Brit. Irritated about America not responding he had almost shot out all his anger out until he saw the confused face of a timid Japan.

The Japanese man brushed his short dark brown bangs aside that were slightly blocking his sight and bowed, "Konnichiwa, England-san. Have you seen America-san? He left his glasses here. I found them on the floor." Japan showed the American's favorite pair of glasses to England. The glass had been cracked on the right lens. The temples were crooked, making it unable to wear. The black color was somehow beginning to fade. By seeing this sight England became more infuriated.

"What has that American been doing? He needs these to see and what does he do? He leaves them here and now they're broken!" Japan pat England on the back and explained to him that America must've been tired that day and forgot about taking off his glasses. Huffing, England closed his eyes and awaited for the arrival of the owner.

...

America decided not to come. After all, he has no reason to attend. He watched his phone flash the caller name "Iggy" and let it ring. Another thing reminding him of his worthlessness. _Pathetic. You can't even find the courage to answer England. What "brother" you are._ Reluctance took control and his finger hovered over the screen for a few rings. He tapped on the call button.

 _A "mask" gets put on, A-m-e-r-i-c-a. Do it now._

 **Fake cheeriness replaced his hurt feelings as he finally mustered enough courage to say words. "What's up Iggy? I was in the shower, so sorry for not answering your calls right away. But, the hero is here now!"**

 _"America! The meeting is about to start and now you're getting yourself washed up? Get here before 3 minutes..." England's voice slightly changed. "Please... don't be late like last time."_

The phone clicked. A new voice spoke politely.

 _"Nihon here. I happened to find your glasses in the Meeting Room. I'll return them when you arrive. See you, America-san."_

America had been wondering why the world seemed blurry. Now he knew why. _Texas is gonna kill me._ He knew his state wouldn't like him ruining a gift named after the state of Texas.

 **"The hero will be there in time, don't you worry guys! I'll be fine!" And the American ended the call before his cover shattered.**

Drops of liquid fell from his face. _Tears. There hasn't been a day that I didn't cry._ America grabbed a tissue to wipe the tears falling. Attempting to take on necessary tasks today would be a time waster for the other countries. All he did wasted precious time solving the world's problems to the other countries. The work never got close to finished when he was around.

Wishing will become questions and America did not want to answer more questions about his life. Meeting countries in the same room became quite an experience to the young country, but as he grew up, it was... not the same feeling as it used to be. Then again, how would anybody find someone as obnoxious and unpleasant as him likable?

Silky fur rubbed against his legs. Americat. The tom stared up into the eyes of his in depressed-state owner. Sullen blue orbs gazed into America's dull stare. He pet the cat's head and sighed dejectedly. Talking with England, he was in the bathroom and ready to take a steamy shower. Now he doubted himself. Why had he been in here anyway? Oh, right. He scooped Americat in his chest and nuzzled his warm fur before releasing him outside and closing the door, barely giving the confused cat enough time to go back in.

On the marble counter underneath his jacket and shirt lay a blade, a small one, but sharp to cut skin. The reason he came here was to cut his wrists. To get the true feeling of pain, one cut was what it all took. He would be satisfied. But they wouldn't be satisfied. A sob wrenched from his throat. His hand grasped the blade gently, like a small child.

America felt fond of his fellow personifications. Nothing altered how he looked up at them. From others, he was taught many things and the America today would never be the same as yesterday. Understand problems and be a hero, help the citizens of your nation, and always smile. Rules must be followed, or everything under the mask becomes revealed. And then it would end. Gone.

But if they are to be happy, why must I be happy? Nobody likes him. Deep in a daze, he kept on the thoughts of negativity. His blue eyes flashed emotion, then closed.

Red.

He saw the blood ebb a tiny river, dripping to the floor. A forlorn reflection of his lifeless gaze shone. His first cut. Then, a smile formed on his face. How long has it been since he grinned a real and genuine smile?

 _Enough._ This compensated him.

He threw the bloody blade in the trash. He lifted himself from the cold tiles of the bathroom. His left arm smoothed out a bandage on the cut. As America reached out for his bomber jacket, he suddenly felt weakened. He shook the feeling off and covered the proof of the incision. Blood seeped through the white bandages. Giving a glance to the trashcan hiding a secret, America shut the bathroom door and locked it from the inside, shutting it in the process.

 _America, time for your "mask"._

"Today is going to be awesome! Woohoo!" As if to respond to the voice's command.

From the moment he was personified, there was a voice that America has been hearing when England had left him alone. It commands for him to wear a "mask" and take said mask off. And it is still with him today. Not on his side, but on the side of... death. However, once it had actually buoyed the US personification, giving tips about becoming the greatest nation and how a hero should act. No longer were these things said. Rather, now mocks his thoughts, feelings, and actions. Still, America listens and obeys. _Because there is nobody else to turn to._

 _ **Sure. Of course an "awesome" day is going to happen. Go outside. If that mangy cat of yours is wondering where you're off to, tell him the World Meeting**_ _._

The stairs seemed exaggerating its lengthy steps. America felt as though the bottom was consumed in pitch black darkness. His impaired vision did not help calm the fear rising to his chest.

 _ **Did I say look down at the stairs like an idiot? Go outside. Now.**_

He forced himself to walk down, relief flooding over him when he could see the bottom of the stairs. Americat had been waiting for its owner and meowed, aware of the unhappy atmosphere. His cobalt eyes scanned the room. Almost confirming he was mistaken, until he saw his owner.

America's blue eyes were dull and bore into the floor. Americat mewled and pressed itself to the American's leg. It didn't work.

America seemed to be staring at nothing.

He opened the door and walked outside, following what the voice told him to do.

 _"Another day of my worthless life."_

 _ **"Don't worry. It will all end soon."**_


	3. Three: Questions of a Invisible Twin

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter... You can blame school and life. I promise I will come back and write some more later.

II

The world meeting was a failure, as usual. Screaming, fighting, the typical scenario the situation took before Germany shouted at the countries to be quiet. Just another regular meeting of the countries of the world. Finally, after five minutes, the countries were ready to begin. Italy, who was busy eating pasta, was the host this time. Everyone semi agreed for the meeting to be located in Rome, although some countries were reluctant.

Italy received a list from one of his maid's. He flirted with her a little."First is America!" Italy spoke and continued wooing the girl, much to Germany's chagrin.

The countries turned their heads to America's chair. Some were giving an "Oh God not America again" look and others soon became annoyed to once again hear his bubbly voice talking about nonsense.

His chair was empty.

"Ve~ He isn't here?" Italy asked aloud. "Then, next is China..."

...

 _I'm surprised my brother didn't show up. I wonder if he forgot? No, he isn't the type of person to be forgetful of such an important discussion._ Canada sat in his chair, transparent to most in the room. He had a concerned presence affecting the atmosphere. The Brit beside him noticed the often inconspicuous country and felt he was being irresponsible. He had raised America and still thought of him as a younger sibling figure.

Something was wrong. And they were going to find out why.


	4. Four: A Letter

A/N: Hey guys! Summer break is finally here, so now I can start writing fanfics again. I just want to clarify that the voice talking to America is in _italics_ and bold. Anything in italics are also what other characters are thinking.

II

After his walk, America had two items in his hand to test how far his immortality could go. A knife from the kitchen and an old rope from the storage closet. It was because of that voice again.

He wouldn't let his death be in vain. Of course he wanted to give some sort of memento to those who "cared". America made sure he had something to give to Canada, England, France, and other countries he thought were his friends. Also, he got food for his cat so he wouldn't starve in the first few days of his death. The countries wouldn't care enough to find him before it was too late, right?

Inside the kitchen was a small fur ball, sleeping on a red rug. "Americat, time to eat." The cat stirred, but didn't wake up. America weakly smiled. _It's better for him to be asleep then to witness my death_. Before going into his bedroom, the country left a bowl full of cat food and the bag wide open on the kitchen tiles so that his cat would have access.

"What else do I have to do?"

 _You can w_ _r_ _ite a note. Get a piece of paper and something to write with. Put the " gifts" you bought somewhere easy to find. Still, you may choose to do none of these and have no available proof of the cause of your death, which I suggest is easier._

 _A note..._

America already knew what to write down. In his room, he found a crinkled paper and a dull pencil. Finally, after so many centuries of torment, the truth will come out. He chuckled sadly.

 _It's kinda like how a hero sacrifices themselves to save others. Except he or she would always come back. I'll be going out with a bang._

 _Dear Countries_ _of_ _The World,_

 _You_ _know, I always wonder why we were_ _immortal_ _. I have a strong hate_ _for_ _that fact. Do you know how many times I've attempted to kill myself, but_ _to_ _no avail?_  
 _Have you heard this quote before? "When you die, your life flashes before your eyes."_ _Now I know what that feels like. I see visions of my past mistakes. Those who thought they might be able_ _to_ _trust me, ended up hurt because_ _of_ _MY actions. Maybe it's time now. Maybe I should stop myself, the villain. If I did something now, I would avoid these mistakes from happening again, right?_

 _Canada, I truly never wanted to treat you as a ghost and not as a fellow nation, more so a good brother. You were there for me when she died as I was for you. All I ever did was make fun of you for it, I couldn't stand seeing you hurt by others who ignored you. Really, I wanted to be... normal? Fit in? If I noticed you, I thought the others would view me differently. So I ignored your existence in spite of the guilt weighing me down. Please... forget about me. Forget this shell of a person. Pretend that I never existed. That way, I can be invisible too._

 _England. How can I make amends for... the Revolution? The words I said to you that day... My mouth just started throwing those insults because so many emotions like anger, sadness, happiness clouded my mind. You've been a great caretaker, brother, and friend. What have I been to you? Probably a waste of time. Yet, I will never forget the day you reached out for me. That was the first (and last time) such a kind action was directed at me. This is the last time I will apologize to you. I'm sorry England. I'm sorry for my troubles and harm. I'm sorry that you found me. I wonder, will you find me again before it's too late?_

 _Japan, it's all my fault. I wanted to make a friend, but I knew you were upset when you were unwilling to open your borders. I was happy our friendship got better over the years. I finally had a friend! It was enough if you could tolerate my stupidity because you would listen intently. I saw trust in your shallow eyes. Before you never see me again I want you to promise me something. Don't be afraid of the other countries. I've actually noticed most countries are nicer than they appear. We're kinda like a huge dysfunctional family, huh? There's a huge difference between us. You have friends, Germany and Italy. You and your friends have a good relationship and can actually get along together. Better than the Allies. I don't feel any trust from my "so-called friends" . And honestly, I'm scared of them. They've lived longer than I. They know more about the world and... I? Why do I have comrades when there isn't trust among us?_

 _I don't have much more to say since so few people cared about me. Even if you think I didn't care about you, I always have. From the very beginning, we needed each other to prosper and survive as personifications. As a consequence of wars and unnecessary conflicts, some nations... dissolved. I wanted this to happen to me, death. Humans... why couldn't I be born a human?! I don't want to watch as my country has so many problems, both external and internal. I want to live a human life. I want to witness life and death. For that though, I must get rid of myself. I'll miss you all, a lot. I wish that none grieve about my suicide. Goodbye. Let's meet again someday, as opposites._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Alfred F Jones, fo_ _rmer personification of the United States of America_


	5. Five: Brothers

(Picture doesn't belong to me.)

A/N: Wowie! It's been awhile! I'm sorry I haven't been updating so much, but anyway here's a flashback chapter. If anyone is wondering, I plan to make this story 30-50 chapters long. The chapter has direct quotes from episode 20 (America's Storage Room Cleaning.), where we read more into how America felt during the war. This chapter is also kinda short, but the chapters from then on will be longer. Here's Chapter 5!

 **II**

Unlimited amounts of rain poured on muddy land. A rifle was aimed at a hunched figure standing alone. Pain, fear, and regret was visible in the green eyes of the British man who had the barrel directly pointed at him. He lifted his head only to be met with by piercing blue eyes. These eyes displayed fortitude. As the man scrutinized the motionless eyes, he saw that beneath his intense stare was unhappiness. He didn't understand. Why? Why was this happening?

The American Revolution.

"Hey, England."

England grit his teeth. His throat was dry and every part of his body was trembling. Many soldiers stood behind the one person he didn't want to harm or yield to. The United States of America.

"After all, I want freedom! I'm no longer a child nor your little brother. I'll become independent from you from now on." America's breathing hitched as he declared those words. The words that held no meaning to him. He was breaking down just by watching England's distressed appearance. _Stay strong, America. I can't fail my people or my country._

The Brit ran and pointed the sharp point of his rifle at America, letting go of the past and his emotions to do so. His sudden movement caught America off guard. America quickly used his gun as protection against the Brit's attack.

"I-I won't allow it!" England yelled in agony.

The strength of England knocked America's rifle out of his hands and into the air. Soon, it dropped to the wet ground. The gun was away from America's reach, Yet his men were still armed. England's breathing became rapid and hoarse. There was only indomitably in the younger personification's blue eyes. _I'm not backing down! Not to England, for my country needs me!_

A tense air surrounded the battlefield. No words were exchanged after England's strike for about a minute. The personifications were merely observing the other's eyes, looking for some kind of resolution.

"This is why I say you don't follow thing's through to the end, you dummy." England muttered, crestfallen. He didn't bring down his weapon. America's men soon pointed their weapons at him. _I'm going to lose him._ England thought, chuckling sadly to himself. _I will be lonely again._ In the past England has been hurt by other countries, such as France, but never before has it drive him into tears. He saw no shame in crying because the rain would mask his salty tears.

Now America seemed at a loss for words. To be completely honest, he wished that this war was just a terrible dream and he would wake up any minute. As he noticed the other country lowering the gun, America slowly returned to reality. America drew in a sharp breath, casting an awkward glance at England.

Only remorse could be seen in England's green eyes. He was sick and tired of this bloody war.

"There's no way I could shoot you, is there?" He abandoned the gun and his knees gave out. "You dummy!"

His eyes dilated, both in confusion and recognition. England cherished him, no loved him. America was blind from the beginning. The fighting, the continuous concerns, the way he acted and looked at him. Here he was, firm that his former caretaker was the strongest out of all countries. However, instead there was a groveled, broken man. America was wrong, again.

"Dammit! Why?! Dammit!" England's words brimmed with anguish and physical pain.

Now America felt more guilty than before. England never deserved to suffer like this, especially not in the hands of his... former brother. The amount of apologies would never make up this war, which suddenly tore their once strong relationship. The world crashed down on America. Must he lie once again?

"England..."

The second lie.

"You were so great once..." _What am I saying? I don't want to speak these bitter words when I don't mean them. I-I'm such... a terrible country. This isn't fair. Someone! Anyone in the damn world-_

 _-please kill me._


End file.
